


On Matters of Trust

by Zi_Night



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Multi, POV Nott (Critical Role), introspective, sorta angsty, spoilers for episode 93
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zi_Night/pseuds/Zi_Night
Summary: That scene was so good and intense that I wanted to throw in my two cents on what could have been going through Nott's head.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre & Nott
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	On Matters of Trust

There is a distinct feeling of guilt as Fjord walks into the hut with the witch, blasé in a way he has not been in a long while. The feeling only intensifies as the door slams shut behind him, isolating him from the rest of them. This was really only about her, and yet he had jumped in first.

She had been mean to him. Rude and callous. She had been scared, was still scared, and had lashed out at him with fear-loosed lips. He was the safest one to lash out at. It was what they did. Traded barbs like sharing a bottle of booze; the words were sharp and stinging, but there was comfort under the burn. It was what they did. _That’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to me and I grew up in an orphanage._ It had been uncalled for.

He comes back and she asks if he is okay. He jokes so he must be. _But how many times have I brushed off concern with a joke? How many times have I joked when it felt like the world was falling apart?_ He comes back with information. Explains that a deal can be made to break her curse. Old misery for new misery.

Beau storms towards the hut before they get to talk about it. Angry and brusque in a way she has not been in a long while. It gives her time to think.

What could they offer that would compare to her misery? What would compare to losing her family? To drowning? To losing her body? To potentially losing the people she has learned to love?

“It’s your turn,” Beau says when she comes back and it shakes her.

“She knows you are here,” Fjord says and she is afraid.

She goes to the door and her head hurts. Her buzz has worn off and her head hurts. _I am not drunk enough for this,_ she thinks and takes one unsteady swig. She does her best to ignore the shakiness of her body and walks in.

The woman talks about misery. Willing misery. And she wonders what could compare to her misery. What loss can compare to her loss? What pain can match her pain? This witch had killed her and then forced her to live in a body that was not hers. A life she was conflicted about giving up because she had learned to _like_ this life and loved the people who were a part of it.

She jokes about sacrificing Sprinkle. She would never do that to Jester, but it gives her time. The witch doesn’t even consider the offer, but it was never really an offer to begin with. She just didn’t want to admit what she had truly considered.

“What if two waring nation were about to form a lasting peace and that peace just… went away?”

The witch speaks of needing to be tethered to the misery. That misery in itself does not serve her, that she needs a connection to the misery. “How does that work?” She is a scientist at heart. She needs to know how this works. She needs to know the facts of this arrangement. Uses knowledge to push back how she feels.

Because she feels shame. Shame that the idea occurred to her. Shame that she even considered it. Shame that she was tempted enough to voice such a horrible thought.

The woman asks if she agrees to the deal. War for the person she once was. _But what if I don’t want to be her anymore?_ _What if the price of going back is too high?_

“I better go talk to my friends,” she says. She trusts them. They will take care of her. They will protect her. They will save her from the worst parts of herself.

Before she leaves, she asks, “Did you enjoy doing this to me?” She doesn’t want to know, not really. But knowing would make some decisions easier.

“I didn’t enjoy doing it to you. I’ve enjoyed everything since.” And it cements where she stands.

“I kinda want to kill her,” she tells the group. The Traveler has said that killing her would be enough to fix it. She trusts the group’s ability to fight. Trusts that they would fight for her.

Jester asks her what she offered and the shame comes back. She tries to justify her thought, even though it curls nastily in her throat. Tries to tell herself that she is protecting the group, who she knows will sacrifice great things for something she isn’t sure she wants. _Especially something that would come with the knowledge of her friend’s misery._ Tries to focus on the nameless thousands she doesn’t know, may never see. Tries to convince herself that maybe she could live her life on the suffering of people she doesn’t know. She isn’t sure she could do it. She _really_ wants to kill that witch.

Beau asks her what she offered and she doesn’t want to admit her cruelty, her selfishness. That she even considered something so terrible. But, with that question she, truly, looks at Beau. Sees the way her friend has retreated into herself. Sees a similar shame curl inside her.

“I offered war,” she says. Quietly, because she is ashamed. Quietly, because Beau needs to know she is not alone in her shame. She would much rather kill the woman, but they need to know the only alternative she could think of.

Beau talks about Luc and TJ being friends and it is not an answer. She pushes as Beau tries to deflect. As Beau talks about things other than what she offered. As Beau talks about isolation like it is an old and familiar friend.

“She offered to leave this,” Yasha says. And Jester in angry, Yasha is angry, the boys are stoic, and she _understands_. The only misery she thought could compare to her misery, that could be worse than her misery, was war, but the way Beau holds herself now speaks volumes. A part of her, a part that she has buried under all the good parts of her old life, remembers what it was like to be alone.

“Think about it though…” Beau says. And she does as Yasha storms off into the hut. Beau’s misery would compare to the one she has lived with, with the misery she is currently experiencing. Beau would lose Fjord; the man who saw potential in her, put effort into helping her, who had offered to stand in her place and face her family for her. Beau would lose Caleb; who had confided in her, who was vulnerable for her, who saw her for more than who she presented herself as. Beau would lose Cad; who admired her, who saw her in a light she did not see herself in. Beau would lose Yasha; who they had just gotten back, who looked at Beau like she was something worth protecting. Beau would lose Jester; who was her best friend, who brought joy to Beau’s life, who she _loved_. Beau would lose her family and live her life thinking that they had moved on without her. And she _knows_ that it would compare to her misery. She _knows_ that isolation would be so much worse now that they know what it is like to be loved. That it could even be leagues above her own misery.

She does think about it. It would be enough to pay for her curse. _But it would come with a curse of its own._ And how could she live her life when she knew that her friend would have paid for it. How could she go back to her family knowing it had cost Beau forsaking hers. How could she think about continuing with the Might Nein, having adventures with the Might Nein, that they may still want her to be a part of the group, when there is a Beau shaped hole in their group.

She and Beau were too alike. Not in the way she and Fjord were alike with their unwanted childhoods and their need to be someone else and their drownings and their self-doubt, but in a more subtle way. No, she and Beau were alike in the way that they had never felt like they were who they were supposed to be, in the way their families were complex and difficult to talk about, in the way they were sure their time with the Mighty Nein was limited.

When Yasha comes back, Jester goes in. And if the idea of Beau giving up her life was too much, the idea of Jester doing the same is torturous. Jester is her best friend, her partner, someone who loves her unconditionally. But there is no stopping Jester, who is next to her one second and inside the next.

They wait in silence as Jester talks to the witch. Time seems to pass slower when Jester is inside. Cad and Caleb seem to be taking stock of themselves. Like they are considering what miseries they could offer on her behalf. And a morbid part of her wants to know what Caleb would give up for her, but a larger part wants him to never enter the room. She doesn’t want her life to come at a cost to Caleb, who has already suffered so much.

The rest of them watch the door, counting seconds that feel like eternity. Beau gets anxious, walks up to the door and knocks. They hear Jester yell at them and she tells Beau to give Jester a minute. She doesn’t say it because she wants Jester to give something up, but because she trusts Jester. For all the others tended to treat Jester like a child, like a loose and unpredictable cannon, she trusts Jester. Jester was cunning and chaotic, but rarely reckless. She trusted Jester to no commit to anything without telling them first.

When Jester rushes out of the room, she wonders if she has been mistaken. If Jester had given something up for her. She looks her friend over, but nothing looks different. And she certainly doesn’t feel different. Jester had talked about giving up her hands, but those are still there. “We gotta go,” Jester says. Her friend grabs her shoulder and pats her. “You’re good,” Jester says, like it means nothing.

The group clamors, just as confused as she is. It’s a mess of people talking over each other. Everyone else is trying to understand what is going on, Jester is trying to get them to leave, but she can only focus on one thing. “What did you give her?”

Either Jester doesn’t hear her or is too focused on getting them to leave to answer. It doesn’t matter, because she doesn’t let up. “What did you give her,” she asks, hiding desperation behind her teeth, because she needs to know. She needs to know what her original body cost Jester. What it cost her. What it cost the group.

Jester looks at her. Too perceptive to not notice what she was trying to hide. She claims to have given up something important, but her eyes are alight in a way they only are after she has pulled off a good prank. She asserts that they can talk about it later, but they need to go now. _I trust Jester._

She lets herself get swept up by Jester’s touch. Let’s her friend grab onto her arm and pull her away. Pulls herself together as Jester snags Beau’s wrist and starts to march them off. The rest of the group follows, they have no other choice. They rush at Jester’s insistence. Back the way they came.

She is tired, in more ways than one. Beau looks like she has retreated into a fortress inside herself. The rest of the group looks a little haggard from their travel. But they march into the fog and the dark.

She leans into Jester’s touch. Not enough to hinder their movement, but enough to reassure herself that Jester is still there. She trusts Jester. And that’s enough for her right now.


End file.
